Mako's Dance
by RebellionInDreamland
Summary: After the breach is closed Mako and Raleigh share a dance. [Inspired by a sketch from the art book.]


**A/N: Regarding the use of RABIT as an acronym: I've seen it used somewhere as standing for Random Access Brain Impulse Triggers, and I thought I'd go with that. **

Mako sat on the edge of her bed, her feet dangling listlessly as she stared at the coarse iron of her door. This wasn't an unfamiliar position. She'd sat like this many, many times; after training, mess, simulator runs. Somehow it was entirely different now though.

Her vision slid to the left, eyes running over the posters plastered above her bed. Jaegers dominated the collage: Striker, Cherno, Typhoon, Diablo, Tango, Ronin, all stood proudly, their pictures taken after victories against the kaiju. There were diagrams of kaiju, cold and anatomical; focusing on weak points, ways to kill. And finally at the centre was Gipsy danger. She stood tall, water flowing from her as she watched over the Alaskan coastline. As she watched over her.

Yet Mako's eyes were drawn to the smallest of photos hidden in the corner, almost buried under the sea of monsters and machines. It was a picture of Raleigh and his brother. The two were half-hugging each other; Yancy's face was hidden by a shadow, but Raleigh was practically glowing, a stupid grin plastered on his face.

Stacker had given her the photo years ago, when she'd just started sparring with the other cadets. She'd tried so hard to keep up, to fight, that eventually something snapped. A minor fracture in her foot- nothing life-threatening. But it forced her to stop, and so she found herself yet again on her bed, head bowed as tears flowed down her cheeks. So absorbed was she in her failure that she'd entirely missed Stacker easing his way into the room. He'd sat down next to her, saying nothing, and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug. The room was silent, nothing needed to be said. Stacker had left the room just as quitely, but not before dropping something on her bed. The picture.

After her recovery she'd forgotten about it, leaving it buried in the back of her room, but now something compelled her to scoot over to it and pry it from the cold concrete wall. It was lighter than she remembered. Now that she was closer the detail in the photo became apparent to her. The matching jackets, for example, with Gipsy Danger's logo emblazoned on the shoulders. But that wasn't what had drawn her to it. She turned the brothers over to reveal what she'd been looking for: a couple of sentences, written in Stacker's flowing script.

_"Remember Mako, a jaeger is no more than its pilots, and all of them are human. We all fall, but it's our ability to rise that separates us from the kaiju."_

How appropriate, Mako though, that Raleigh was the example Stacker had picked. He was a legendary figure, the all-American hero who'd fallen, then disappeared, refusing compensation for his unthinkable loss. And yet he'd come back, and though the smile was gone he was as deadly a pilot as ever. His emotions certainly ran deep, as did his scars. Two days later he was a hero again.

Suddenly restless, Mako sprang to her feet and began pacing up and down her room. Everything felt tight and cramped and she _had _to get out. Barely stopping to grab a water bottle, she shoved her door open and stepped into the hallway. She knew where she had to go.

-/-/-

Raleigh woke with a roaring yawn then bolted upright in his bed, his heart hammering in his chest. He had to hurry. Training. An Attack. Raleigh's thoughts raced in circles around his brain as he clumsily rose and attempted to pull on something, _anything_. He was half-dressed in one of the standard overalls before he realised that there was no alarm beeping, no voice barking instructions over the P.A. Then he remembered where he was, and collapsed with a sight onto his bed. It was over. There was no wall to build, no jaeger to pilot, no more kaiju. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he'd been allowed a proper night's sleep. That in itself felt almost as strange as the war's end.

Raleigh rubbed his eyes, attempting to dispel his drowsiness. He didn't want to go back to bed. His state of dress notwithstanding, he was far too awake to be able to fall back into sleep. And there was no guarantee that sleep would bring any comfort either. He still had the nightmares. Yet he was at a complete loss as for what to do with his day. As he contemplated the novelty of boredom, his stomach grumbled. Breakfast. At least that didn't change.

Pulling on the rest of his overall, Raleigh stepped out into the bare corridor, ready to head to the mess hall, but something made him pause. The identical door just a few feet in front of him hid a friend, one who knew him better than anyone left on the planet, and the thought of facing the jubilant crowd alone was almost too much to bear. Not now, after they'd lost so much. But she needed time- he know how much it hurt to lose someone that close. Ralaigh was frozen in indecision as the minutes ticked past. Eventually he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He'd made a decision.

The door was cold and hard, it hurt to knock on. Still he did, twice in rapid succession. Nothing. He knocked again- harder this time. Silence.

"Mako?" Raleigh's voice echoed off the corridor walls.

"Mako? You there?" Raleigh felt a stab of unease shoot through him. It was irrational, he knew. She couldn't be far, but the feeling didn't let up. She was an early riser, and it was far too late for her to still be sleeping. That fact, and more had found its way to Raleigh's memory through the Drift. The small snippets of personality, occasional memories, all carried through the neural bridge. Deciding that he'd waited long enough, Raleigh set off towards her likely location. There wasn't really much question where she might be.

As he walked his footsteps echoed down the corridors. The shatterdome had always been unnaturally quiet, but now it was different. Where before the silence was uneasy- punctuated by brief exchanges and grim, though determined work- it was now peaceful. The euphoria of yesterday's reception had lost its edge, and though the occasional celebration continued, it was time to start rebuilding. Both the city and the lives of those in it. It was time to mourn the fallen; Chuck, Stacker, the Wies, and Kaidanovskys, would all be remembered for their sacrifices.

Raleigh slowed as he approached the door in front of him. It was slightly ajar; from inside he could hear the thumping of someone running, jumping, training. His suspicions confirmed, he crept up to the door and gently eased it open.

There she was. Mako stood crouching, facing away from him, a training staff at the ready. Her feet were splayed, and the tank top she was wearing had a dark patch spread across its back. Without turning she spoke."You can come in, unless you want to stare."

Raleigh felt his usual smirk slip into place. "I guess I'm not as quiet as I think."

"I knew you would come." She paused briefly. "Eventually." Mako's tone was light, though she was still breathing heavily.

"And I bet you know why I'm here too, right?" Raleigh asked, half-jokingly.

"To talk." With this, Mako turned to face him. The staff was still very much at the ready, and he hair was stuck to her face at all kinds of strange angles, the blue highlights contrasting the black, and the grey walls around them. It was her eyes though that betrayed her non-belligerence.

"Actually I was running from breakfast. I'm not quite ready to face the cheers. Not when the heart of this program is gone." Raleigh lost his smirk as he spoke. He hadn't meant to add that last bit.

"Yeah." Mako grimaced and looked away.

They both stood there, acutely aware of the silence around them, yet unable to put words to their thoughts. Somewhere in the background a machine hummed. Raleigh finally spoke. "It's strange, right? Talking after you've Drifted with somone."

Mako looked back at him. "It is odd. I know things- small things about you. You sleep on your left side. You like Tchaikovsky. You broke three windows when you were in grade four."

He winced. "That wasn't a good day."

Mako grinned briefly, but the smile slipped from her face as she began again.

"These things I know, they are not all of you." She made a face. "That doesn't make much sense."

"I know the feeling." Raleigh smiled again, this time without the playful smirk.

"I think it's like a puzzle." Mako said, frowning in concentration. "I can see some pieces, but some I cannot. And I can't fit them together yet. Does that make sense?"

He nodded. "That's a fair way of putting it." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, then continued. "You're meant to take a little of those pieces as you can with you into the Drift. The less you have the better you fight. Yancy and I once... well..." Raleigh trailed off, his eyes staring at something years behind Mako's head. He closed them for a moment, then spoke again.

"That's why RABITs are so dangerous. You're out there slugging away at a kaiju, then suddenly you're not sharing the load. You don't trust your partner." He sighed. "And you don't ever want to pilot alone." He turned away, hoping that she would miss the tears forming in his eyes.

Mako walked slowly over to him. He was trying his hardest to keep a stoic face.

"Raleigh, it's ok. I know." She reached over and took his hand. "That was the first piece I found."

Raleigh managed half a rueful smile. "Yancey's shadow's always gonna be there." He sighed. "When you Drift with someone that much, you eventually find all the pieces, and you have a full picture in front of you. If you can combine it with yours..." He trailed off again, staring into space. She made a sympathetic hum, and gripped his hand tighter. Suddenly he was reminded of something he'd seen in the Drift.

"Hey Mako, wanna dance?" He tripped over the last word; his mouth moving faster than his brain. Anxiety spiked in him as he waited for a response. What it he'd been wrong?

His fears proved unfounded though, as Mako's face lit up like a beacon, a shy smile appearing through the masses of hair which obscured it. "I'd love to!" She exclaimed. Then her face fell. "But I can't. And we have no music."

"I took a couple of lessons back in high school." Raleigh said. "Besides, how hard could it be?"

She nodded once, and threw the staff to the far side of the room, where it landed with a clatter. Raleigh softly guided her newly-freed hand to his back, then slid his own to hers.

"Just follow me." He said, his voice not betraying his nervousness. High school was a long time ago. But the complete trust in Mako's eyes spurred him on, so he took a step. It was awkward and clumsy; as was the next, and the next, but they persevered, and eventually the room was filled with the rhythmic patter of two pairs of bare feet.

The Mako he had in his arms as different to the one he'd seen before. Gone was the intense concentration of the fight, and the constant need to be _better._ Though she was unsure of the occasional step, and there was no music, the joy and trust she had made any blunders worth it. Besides, he thought, as they glided over the floor, even now, outside the Drift they were in synch. More so than he'd been with anyone, even his brother. Eventually he'd find all of Mako's pieces. But that, like the world outside could wait. This moment was just for the two of them.

-/-/-

Tendo walked at a brisk pace down the hall to the training room. It was almost lunchtime, and no one had seen anything of either Mako or Raleigh. A sleep-in was entirely deserved, Tendo thought, but people were getting worried. So he volunteered to search for the missing pilots. Since neither of their rooms were occupied, he could only guess where they could be.

Nearing the doorway, he slowed. The door was half-open, confirming that at least one of them was here. Though, if his suspicions were correct, the other would be close by. Reaching the door, he noticed that there was no sound- no thumping of feet to indicate someone training. He slowly pushed it open, and couldn't help but smile at what he saw. Mako and Raleigh stood pressed up against each other in the middle of training floor. They rested their heads on each other's shoulders; he could see Mako's face, which had an expression of true peace on it. Her eyes were closed, and she looked more at ease than Tendo had ever seen her. He could only imagine that Raleigh looked the same way.

Though Tendo knew he should probably tell them that people were searching for them, he chose instead to retreat as quietly as possible, closing the door inch by inch as he went. He turned, and began his trip back to the mess hall. The two deserved what peace they could get, Tendo thought. When they were ready, they would come.


End file.
